


Gambler's Spirit

by Stephicness



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Awkward Conversations, Banter, F/M, Interviews, M/M, Rhetoric, Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-04
Updated: 2018-12-04
Packaged: 2019-09-07 03:00:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,196
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16845829
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Stephicness/pseuds/Stephicness
Summary: It's your job to interview people and make sure they're fit for the job. It's also your job to break them down. It seems like the new high commander will be a tough one though....





	Gambler's Spirit

Three minutes past the hour was still considered late, no matter how one would look at it. Three minutes past the anticipated noon time was not noon. It was twelve thirty in the afternoon, and it was unacceptable. Punctuality was important in the mind of the deputy-commander, and he wouldn’t expect anything less from his meetings. He was a busy man with a busy schedule, and so once past the time, he shouldn’t even bother with being patient. No. He  _wouldn’t_ be patient for his appointment. He would simply have to move on and tend to more important tasks that playing this waiting game.

Well, he considered it at least. He considered getting up and leaving the place he was warming up for the last hour now, but he was already so invested in this. If he left now, then his place would be taken should his appointment finally arrive, or worst of all, he would be the one that seemed as if he never arrived for the meeting. At this point in time, it was a battle of pride. He would not be the one who would falter in this situation. He would be the one that prevailed in this endurance match of waiting. He would wait, dammit. Because that way, it wouldn’t seem as if he was the one who failed to keep his end of the bargain on their intended meeting time.

Twelve o’clock. Noon. Sharp.

He glared at the ornate clock upon the wall, watching as the time click in such a horridly slow pace. Almost five minutes past now. And he counted down the time. The brutally long time.

Fifty-seven…

Fifty-eight…

Fifty-nine…

“Ravus?”

Ravus’s eyes snapped over to the door as it opened. About damn time someone emerged. How dare they leave him waiting for so long! Heterochromatic eyes narrowed for a moment as you emerged, clipboard of information tucked underneath your arm as you looked at Ravus with a curious expression. Huh? You couldn’t help but wonder why he looked so irritated. Nevertheless, you smiled and held the door open for him.

“Right on time, Mr. Fleuret! You really are as punctual as they say.”

Ravus was hardly amused as he rose from his face, fixing his coat as he glared back at the clock again. “And yet, you are not. When you claim that our intended appointment was at noon, then I expected you to hold true to your anticipated time.”

You arched an eyebrow at him. “It is noon though.”

“Not according to this clock.”

You felt your eyes narrow at him before you flicked your wrist and flashed your phone at him. “Noon on here, according to a universal clock. And now noon o’one, since you keep wasting our meeting time arguing this.”

Ravus scowled at the statement, looking at your phone in shock before looking at the clock once more. He had to reach into his pocket to look at his pocket watch.

_Damn. One past noon._

He opened his mouth to apologize, but you merely gestured to the inside of your office with a plastered smile. “Now then, shall we begin our meeting, Mr. Fleuret?” He tried not to let the eye twitch show as he obediently nodded his head and walked into the office past you, just as you tried to hide the satisfied smile on your face as you followed him.

It was always a pleasure making even the most powerful of people feel powerless.

You tapped your way to your desk, gesturing to the chairs before it for the deputy-commander to sit. Your made sure to have the most uncomfortable chairs the empire could offer for the people who were brought into your office – almost a sick and twisted way of testing the people who were unfortunate enough to come into your office. You took your place within the comfortable leather, scooting forward as you eyed Ravus in his place on the edge of the plastic seat. He seemed like a behemoth compared to how short the chair was, but he feigned comfort by crossing his legs over one another as he surveyed the office.

Poor guy.

_You couldn’t wait to tear him apart._

It was perhaps the strangest way to compare it to, but you were, in a way, like the recruiter within the Imperial army. That was the only way you could describe it without making yourself sound like some sort of therapist who probed into the minds and lives of the soldiers around you – seeing if they were fit to serve the Empire. You obviously weren’t that, because you never babied those in the army. You didn’t need to. They were grown ass men and women who knew what to do, how to follow orders, how to obey the will of the emperor. But even if they knew how to keep their loyalty to the empire, it was your job to make sure that – loyal or no – a soldier wasn’t considered a liability to the emperor and his ambitions. And if they were… Then, well, you’d be among the first to tell Emperor Iedolas and Chancellor Izunia that something needed to be done.

And so, the Deputy-Commander of the Niflheim Imperial army was there in your office, ready for you to report your interview with him to the emperor and chancellor to see if his nomination was an acceptable one – especially since now General Glauca was killed in action. The role of high commander should be passed onto Ravus, but not without some proper checks behind the character of the Tenebraen prince. You didn’t really care if hierarchy claimed that he was next for the job. If Emperor Iedolas’s ambitions were at risk thanks to Ravus, then you wouldn’t hesitate to mark him as a threat to the empire and send him to prison.

For the Empire, all that jazz.

If anything, the Empire just so happened to be the place you worked for, happily acting as an advisor to the Emperor and Chancellor without much objection to it. But that’s because nobody ever dared to really challenge the empire to begin with – dared to challenge you. No person in power would make it to that position without proving it to you. It didn’t really matter whom you worked for, because no matter where you were you were good at your job. Ruthless at it, because if a liability came into power, then it would be you to blame. It was a game played to the extreme with only the most powerful of pieces recruited. You would only accept the best in your conquest for flawlessness. It was the ultimate challenge you attempted to fulfill.

And so, you weeded out the weak by letting the poor soul before you know just how powerful you were, making him sit there in silence as you surveyed your paperwork. You already read it all over, but just allowing Ravus to sit there and wait even more was more satisfying than the questions you had prepared for him. And you made sure to take note of everything as he waited. The way he tapped his fingers on his knee, the press of his lips as his eyebrows furrowed, and – your favorite – the way he glared at you as if trying to anticipate your next move. It was a game of chess, and he was waiting for your first move.

“So,  _Ravus_. How is your arm healing?”

You could see him physically restrain himself from clenching his metal fist in reaction to your question before he cleared his throat and spoke. “It will heal in given time.”

“And if there’s no time to give?” He raises his gaze towards you. “We have a busy agenda within the Empire, Commander. We cannot afford to waste any time, so not even the death of Glauca will hinder the Emperor as we progress towards the figure. Your recovery is important, but not important enough for us to hold back for your sake.”

“I understand, and I had no intention of letting my injury become problematic for the Empire’s rise to glory.”

“And yet you let your pride become problematic instead.” A nerve was struck as you watched his upper lip twitch in irritation. You smiled and cocked your head. “My job is to know the gossip. And rumors claimed that your annoyance with the Lucians is what caused the ring to be lost in the first place. Glauca could have ended your life then and there, but even he did little to abide by his orders to finish off the nuances of the empire. Perhaps he too deserved a punishment as worse as yours.”

“And death was not punishment enough?”

 _“No. Death was the easy way out.”_ The tone in your voice was perhaps more ruthless than even you anticipated. But you rose from your place, beginning to prowl around the desk in another one of your tests. It often made even the most stoic of people nervous when they couldn’t see the ‘enemy’ in their line of sight. But it was impressive how Ravus didn’t even move to let his eyes follow you. You smiled and tapped your fingers along your bookcase. “Glauca lost his life because he let his attachments become his downfall. The attachment to his second life, the attachment to the hatred for the Lucians – how will we know that you won’t end up like Glauca, Mr. Fleuret?”

Ravus was silent, making you watch him in a bit of annoyance that he didn’t have an answer fast enough for you. Looks like you shut him up for good. Not even enough fight in him, you supposed.

That is, until he replied. “Perhaps that is a gamble that you will have to make.”

…Well now. For once, that caught  _you_ by surprise. You turned around to face him, crossing your arms over your chest as you leaned against the wall. You gestured for him to continue, which he didn’t need to see directly to know you were waiting for an explanation – no, an argument for you.

“Wars are not won with strategy alone. Many of the greatest strategist are gamblers by nature. Much like you are, I can imagine.”

“Oh?” Your eyes narrow at him. “I’m pretty sure this is about me analyzing you and your behavior,  _Ravus_.”

“And my behavior is that of a tactician as well. One who can anticipate the enemy’s moves and be a step ahead of them throughout the process. Know thy enemy – just as you have done your research on me. Am I not wrong?” He had the nerve to turn his head, violet piercing at you with the sharpness of a blade. “And you should know then that you cannot break an already broken man, so try as you like during this interview to shatter me.”

An intimidation tactic to counter your own intimidation tactic? And it almost worked as you seemed almost taken aback by the intense look in his eye. Almost. Fighting brute strength with brute strength was impressive, but it would only get him so far. But you had to admit, it was impressive. Not even Glauca could combat you with a blatant challenge like this. You chuckled and moved back towards your desk, flopping down in your seat before lifting your paperwork again.

“It’s no fun to break a person who can’t be broken. You’re the first interview I’ve had that was dumb enough to think you can strong arm me to backing off.”

“And yet, you refrain from your verbal assault.”

There was a tension in the air that would have smothered the weak as a silence settled between the two of you. Your eyes narrowed at him as you leaned forward with your chin on top of your laced fingers. Ravus leaned back in his seat, hand resting on top of his knee as he crossed his legs properly.

“Testing me is like playing with a Sabertusk, Mr. Fleuret. Are you really going to test your luck with the person who will make or break your future?”

“That depends. Will you continue to circle around me to shatter my composure? Will you continue to trick me with altered clocks and feigning under-preparedness? Will you continue to intimidate me with the ideas that  _you_  will be the one to determine how fit I am to become High Commander?” Ravus leaned forward, heterochromatic eyes challenging you as he so easily unveiled the strategies and plans you had for the upcoming interview. Damn… He was more prepared than you thought. “I am willing to press my luck, just as you are willing to press yours to see if I will falter.”

“Who said I was relying on luck?”

“If not luck, then hope. Hope that you were not wrong in assuming I am unfit to become the High Commander.”

…Oh, he  _was_ good. You underestimated him, not realizing just how imposing he was and how different he was compared to the others. He was not stupid, which only made you smile and laugh as you leaned back in your seat. It had been a long time since you’ve had someone this ballsy in the hotseat. “Well then… If anything, I hope to see that your supposed luck is not confused with foolishness.”

“Foolishness or a will to fight you?”

“And what is giving you the will to keep fighting me, Mr. Fleuret?” You watch him like a predator, waiting for him to make a mistake to finish the job for the pride of Niflheim. “Most would accept their fate as a broken, injured, prisoner of war – marketed as a pet of the empire and a trophy of Glauca’s conquest of the shattered kingdom of Tenebrae. You, the exiled prince of Tenebrae, Ravus Nox Fleuret, are nothing more than a prize for Niflheim to brag about. Most in your position would lack the fight to keep moving forward – to dare take up the mantle of the enemy that ruined your life. And yet, here you are.” You sat upright in your seat, arms crossing on your desk as you eyed the commander again. “For a man as ‘broken’ as you claim, it’s impressive that you’re still able to stand.”

“Is there a question in amidst your observations, or are you merely griping for a recollection of my tragedies?”

You scoffed, shuffling the paperwork on your desk as a smirk returned to your face. “I guess my only question right now is ‘Why?’ Why go through all the trouble of pleasing an empire that only brought you suffering and torment? Why bother to become the next high commander when you know the odds are stacked against you?”

“I am certain that you asked approximately two questions.”

“And I am certain that you’re being a smartass, Mr. Fleuret.” You noticed the fainted curl tugging up at the corner of his mouth. “Explain to me why you would ever manage to impress me as the new High Commander.”

Ravus shifted in his place, and you tried your damnedest not to laugh as the chair squeaked and shattered the silence. You could tell Ravus was more annoyed at the inconvenient noise than the discomfort. “My intentions of why are irrelevant in the grand scheme of things. My life, as you have referenced, is ruined. In a world when I have nothing left, there is only so much one can do. Except of course, make a gamble.” Ravus flicked his wrist and gestured to you. “High risk and high reward, if you will. For a man with nothing to lose is perhaps the most feared, wouldn’t you agree?”

“No. A man with nothing to lose still has nothing. He shouldn’t be gambling to begin with. He only becomes a risk.”

“What’s life without a bit of risk? A man with nothing only means he has everything to gain. After all-”

“’The greatest tacticians are gamblers by nature?’”

“It is how Chancellor Izunia became one of the most powerful men in the empire. And, perhaps, it is how you were able to gain your position of power as well.” You pressed your lips in a thin line as you listened to his defense. “There is only so much intimidation you can do. Only so many mind games you can play before someone knows your exact strategy. What will happen when all your meticulous calculations fail?”

“I never fail.”

“Is that so?” Ravus cocked an eyebrow, leaning back again as he gestured to you. “So, I assume that you intended to beat me then, and prove to the Chancellor and Emperor that I am just as unfit as you assumed.” His eyes watched you with a dangerous look, like a knife to your throat. “Well? What is your verdict?”

“Take a lucky guess, Mr. Gambler. What  _is_  my final verdict?” You smiled back with an equally dangerous look. The other man was cunning, you had to admit. It was almost exciting to have this kind of clever conversation with someone. The only other person daring enough to have these types of talks was the chancellor, but his games only ended what you bluffed on: that you never failed. Contrary in the battle of wits, only the chancellor could outmatch you. It infuriated you, and yet having Ravus here, you couldn’t help but realize something…

“That pure luck is your only option now in winning against me.”

Yes… You realized that there was another man who could outmatch you.

Your eyes narrowed into a glare, but it soon relaxed as a soft chuckle turned into laughter. You shook your head, tapping your fingers on your desk as you looked at the paperwork again. You rose from your place, gesturing to the silver-haired man to rise with you as you escorted him towards the door. You looked at him, tilting your head as he stood before you at the doorframe. “I’m sure you’ll be seeing more of me in the future. After all, if I find out that you are more of a threat than an asset, then I’ll be the first one to report you to the Emperor.”

“I would not expect anything less, should that be your ultimate plan.”

“Who knows? Perhaps I’ll get lucky that it won’t come to that.” You smirk at the other man, extending out your hand to him. “Until then, I hope you won’t disappoint me,  _High Commander Fleuret.”_

Ravus scoffed, returning the expression as he reached out and took your hand to shake it. “I do not intend to.”

And with a bow of his head, he turned on his heel and departed. You watched him carefully with your arms crossed over your chest and your shoulder leaning against the doorway. You clicked your tongue, index through pinky finger drumming against your bicep before you turned towards your secretary at their desk. “Contact Chancellor Izunia for me, please.”

The secretary nodded, watching Ravus depart before looking back at you. “And what will you have me say?”

“That I’m willing to make a gamble on our new High Commander.”

“Isn’t that a little risky to say?”

You smiled in response. “What’s life without a bit of risk?”


End file.
